


Piano Man

by GealachGirl



Series: The holidays + someone playing the piano + feelings [2]
Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Holiday Music, M/M, Piano, actual canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 01:28:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13136292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GealachGirl/pseuds/GealachGirl
Summary: Ray stumbles across his childhood piano and stumbles over some Christmas songs.





	Piano Man

**Author's Note:**

> I actually had this idea after the prompt day passed, so I'm not technically late.

Ray ran a finger through the thick layer of dust on the piano before he sat down on the bench, and pushed the lid up.

Because he was alone, he took a few more moments to look it over—the old wood, the stained keys, the loose pedals—and he trailed his fingers across the keyboard as he smiled.

It had been a long time. He’d become a Marine, he’d gone to war, and then he’d come back out and he lived halfway across the country with a giant Hebrew bastard, on his way to becoming an engineer.

But this piano he’d grown up with was the same, and the music books were in the same place, and the book of Christmas songs was exactly where he’d left it.

Ray’s mom had taken Brad out to get a tree and all the traditional Hanukkah decorations—even though Hanukkah was over and Brad didn’t really care. And while Brad bonded with his mom, Ray had been left at the house to set up lights.

Then he’d stumbled on the piano and felt, for the first time in years, like he needed to sit down.

The song book opened easily to “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” and Ray smiled, skimming over the bars before he put his fingers on the right keys.

“Here goes nothing,” he muttered, because he doubted it would sound anywhere close to good.

It didn’t.

He crawled through the song, repositioning his fingers and double-checking the notes. The muscle memory had faded, but it wasn’t completely gone, so after a few runs the song at least sounded the way it was supposed to, even if it was too slow. 

Bored, Ray flipped to another song, a simpler one, and tried that. It was clumsy, too, but he was adjusting. His sight-reading was coming back, so he didn’t have to keep looking at the notes, and he landed on the melody sooner this time.

Despite taking lessons for most of his childhood, he’d never been great at the piano, but it was fun and he could play songs the way they were meant to sound, so that was all the skill he needed. Knowing how to read music was half the battle anyway.

Ray moved on to another song then, and it came faster than the other two had. As he worked through, he smiled down at the keys and the songbook.

When he finished it, Ray went back to the first one and now that he’d gotten used to playing again, the notes flowed easy, right on tempo. He played through it twice so he was sure the memory was cemented, and sat back when he was done.

Caught up in the music, Ray pulled the book down from the stand and flipped back to the table of contents to find something else that interested him.

“Do you take requests?” Ray jumped, but it was just Brad’s dry voice, and he turned around to acknowledge his dickhead boyfriend. Brad’s expression criticized his situational awareness.

“Only if it’s for ‘Free Bird’,” Ray replied, glaring back. Brad laughed and came into the room. “Where’s my mom?”

“She’s talking to one of your neighbors in the driveway. I thought I’d leave before I had to explain why I’m here.” Ray smirked, but decided not to mock Brad. He wasn’t sure he wanted to come out to the whole neighborhood yet, either. So he patted the piano bench instead.

Brad rolled his eyes, but he sat down and peered at the table of contents over Ray’s shoulder.

“So what do you think, sweetie?” Ray asked, mostly sarcastic. Brad wasn’t interested in any of the Christmas music, and Ray wasn’t sure he would even stay in the room for more.

“You don’t suck,” Brad replied, and Ray whipped his head around to stare at the top of Brad’s. “In fact, I think you were actually sounding better.”

Ray wondered how long Brad had been there and frowned. “Don’t be a kiss ass.”

Brad didn’t let him know one way or the other if it was a joke. He just shrugged and settled on the bench, relaxing so his shoulder pressed into Ray’s. “Keep playing.”

Ray smiled at the pocket of warmth opening in his chest and picked something else to learn, with Brad leaning next to him. “Solid copy, Sergeant.”


End file.
